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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204332">Heavy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elo_elo/pseuds/elo_elo'>elo_elo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Detonography [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, BDSM Scene, Blindfolds, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hitachi - Freeform, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Squirting, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Vibrators, brief discussion of aftercare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:20:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elo_elo/pseuds/elo_elo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>His touch shatters her. She begs for it</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Detonography [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heavy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I told you I couldn’t help myself ;) </p>
<p>This work utilizes the dynamics from my longer fic but can stand alone.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s warm in the room even with all her skin exposed. Her fingers are still chilled, the tip of her nose, from coming in out of the cold. Two feet of snow packed down into a sheet of slush and ice by taxis and foot traffic. The gunmetal grey of New York’s winter sky above her. She’d kicked snow and ice the color of charcoal off her boots at the entrance of the club. But he’d stripped her down of everything. Coat, boots, bag. It made her feel soft and new and like the long, shaky subway ride from Brooklyn to Chelsea hadn’t happened at all. An almost drowsy feeling. Surrender. And now she waits for him. Staring up at the ceiling, Testing the give of the silken rope as surreptitiously as she can. Solas told her to stay still, to stay quiet. She hasn’t decided yet if she’s going to behave tonight. Dasha can almost feel him watching, waiting for her to. And then it’ll be his turn to decide. Hard or soft. He hadn’t given her enough time to look in his eyes before he turned her roughly around to shuck off her coat. She has no clues to which way he’ll go.</p>
<p>He’s tied her forearms together, laid them carefully above her head before lashing her shins to her thighs, spreading her legs roughly apart. And he’s left her there, naked on this table, for what is starting to feel like an eternity. She can hear him move around the room, the clack of his dress shoes on the hardwood, the sound of him rummaging through his bag. She’s almost sure she can hear the quiet tapping of him responding to an email which spikes an immediate indignant rage. Which he knows, she’s sure, which he’s done on purpose.</p>
<p>Dasha tenses when she hears his footsteps approaching. She can feel the heat of his body before she can even see him, now just out of the corner of her eye. He’s left his sport coat by the door, makes a long show of rolling up the sleeves of his button-down. Dasha exhales, a ragged sound that rattles through her chest. The waiting has pulled her taut. Even the air heavy with sensation on her skin. She wants him to touch her, <em>needs </em>him to. But he’s only there to test the tension of the rope, his fingers barely brushing against her skin. Her exhale becomes a groan. Solas immediately releases the rope. “I told you to be quiet.” He doesn’t swat at her, doesn’t take rough hold of her jaw like she expects him, <em>wants him, </em>to. Just leaves her, the clack of his shoes growing quieter as he heads across the room. Dasha could scream. Could just open her moth and howl. But she stays still, silent. Like her body has decided for her. She’ll behave. Dasha stops resisting, lets her limbs go slack against the rope. Her legs widen. She can feel herself so wet she’s dripping. It’s humiliating. Her hips churn. She wants more of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She waits for him until she can’t wait anymore. Until the scream she is biting back starts to come loose, until the thinking part of her brain starts to form her safe word on her lips. He must see that, feel it in the air around her, because he before she can speak, he taps her thigh and her whole body releases. He does it again, just two fingers, two quick taps. Like a schoolteacher telling her to pay attention. Like she could do anything else. Like she isn’t so fully in her own body that she can feel each goosebump as it rises across her naked thighs. He hasn’t blindfolded her yet, but Dasha can feel it coming. Solas is never predictable but there are some things even he cannot resist. And he likes her helpless. Told her that once back at his apartment, when the wine bottle they split over dinner was at the last glass. Told her he likes to watch her balk against the feeling of it, to watch her fight him. <em>No one’s kept me on my toes the way you do. </em>“It seems,” he begins, voice almost unreal after so much silence, “that you want to be touched.” He absently strokes her hair. Like she’s a pet, something soft that he’s found. “And who I am to deny you a request like that?”  Dasha tenses. She can hear the mocking in his voice, the threat. Her fear is erotic, the thrill of his touch, the potential of what his touch could bring, settling down between her hips. Dasha leans into the blindfold as Solas slips it over her eyes. This is newer, the blindfold. Just in the last few weeks. And it changes things in ways that, at first, surprised her. It diffuses her body. Makes his touch her whole world. Pleasure and pain tripling inside of her as her body blends with his. No endings or beginning, only sensation. Dasha inhales, exhales. “Good girl.” Solas runs his fingers along her flank, up over her belly and down one thigh. He won’t leave her alone again, not now, not with the game beginning now for real.</p>
<p>His fingers drift between her legs. He touches her absently again, as though he’s disinterred. Fingers along her lips, missing her clit each time. She shifts her hips, trying to force him toward the real center of her. The sharp slap against her thigh isn’t a surprise. “Behave.” She feels him move around the table. Solas smacks her lightly on the cheek with the pads of his fingers. Her breath shudders. “Open.” He runs his thumb along her lips and she tastes the salt of his skin when she lets his fingers slide inside. His fingers find the back of her throat. She chokes around them, threatening his knuckles with her teeth. Solas slips his hand from her, takes tight hold of her jaw. “<em>Behave, </em>Dasha.” His fingers, sticky with her spit, trail down her sternum, the taut plane of her belly, until they slip again between her legs. Stroking gently, possessively. “What can I do with this, hmmm? How much do you think you can take?” He waits, expectant, and when she says nothing, he swirls his thumb along her clit. “So, you are capable of listening.”</p>
<p>She can’t help herself, grins, the blindfold shifting as her cheeks move.  “From time to time.”</p>
<p>Solas chuckles, rubs her clit a little harder before removing his hand completely. The shock of the loss of sensation so intense that when he returns it, slapping his fingers against her pussy, she arches her back, fingers curled into fists, straining the rope. “This,” he says, slapping it again, this time gentler, “belongs to me.” Dasha shudders. He smears her wetness across the inside of her thigh, almost dismissive. “You cum when I tell you to. Not before. Do you understand that?”</p>
<p>Dasha sucks in a breath. “Yes, Sir.”</p>
<p>“Good.” She can feel the choppy air around the vibrator before she even hears it and by the time he brings it to touch her thigh she’s almost jumpy with anticipation. It’s a smooth, velvety silicone. A rumbly vibration. It feels big, girthy. Dasha tenses to stop her hips from churning down. Solas drags it down the inside of her thigh then along the lips of her pussy. Dasha digs her nails into her palms. Trying to keep still, trying to keep quiet. “Can you be a good girl for me?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Sir.”</p>
<p>He swirls it over her clit then turns the vibration up higher. Dasha yelps, hips rocketing off the table. “I suppose we shall see.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s too much. This advance and retreat. Hard and fast and then nothing. He plays with her like a bored cat. Taunting, brutal, a quiet gentle hand on her flank when she starts to pant. But it’s too much now. She’s practically twisting off the table, pulling at the rope. And she decides in an instant that she’s done being good, done behaving. Dasha lets her hips rock, lets them grind down on the vibrator. She’s so close, so close it fucking hurts, so close that she – Solas pulls the vibrator away and slaps her pussy. Almost hard, almost brutal. Dasha shudders, gasping for air, gulping for it. He pulls the blindfold from her and she blinks into the light. The room is bright, disorienting. Her body roiling on the table, her thoughts shattered. Solas puts a hand low on her belly, thumb running soft circles on the skin. With his other hand he slaps each of her breasts, hard enough to pull the air from her lungs. “Dasha, Dasha, Dasha. What did I say?” She gapes at him, her thoughts slow and far away. He takes hold o her jaw, his tone measured. “What did I say, Dasha?”</p>
<p>She gulps for air, searching for her voice. “That I can’t cum, Sir.”</p>
<p>“And what were you about to do?”</p>
<p>She squirms in his grip. “Cum, sir, I was about to cum.”</p>
<p> We can’t have that.” He swats her thigh and the sensation, any sensation radiates through her . “Needy.” He swats her again. “Such a slut. If only you could see the way you look, how desperate you sound. You should be ashamed.” Dasha moans. She feels beyond words, beyond even thoughts. “But you aren’t, are you?” He takes her jaw in his hand again. “You’re a brazen little whore.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she says, babbling.  </p>
<p>He chuckles. “Yes? Well then.” With skilled fingers he undoes the rope around her shins, leaving it tied around her thighs, but freeing her legs. He eases her onto the ground, onto her knees then pulls her roughly by her bound wrists, forcing her to crawl behind him across the room. His cock strains his slacks and she can see by the tightness of his jaw that this has started to affect him. The fog lifts a little. She smirks. He tsks.. “Smug little whore.” He undoes his pants, lets them clatter to the floor. “What an insatiable little girl you are, practically begging for my cock.” She opens her mouth, crawling toward him, but Solas yanks her back by her hair. She gasps, more from shock than pain, but when she sits up again, her spine is rigid. “Look at me.” She cranes her neck up. His face reveals nothing, stern and blank. “If you make yourself cum, you won’t be able to sit for a week. Do you understand me?”</p>
<p>Her brain is foggy but she weighs the idea of it. Him laying into her ass, the backs of her thighs. Welts that will last for days, little reminders. But she’s been good, mostly, today feels like she wants that, to please him, to be good. “Yes, Sir. Yes, I promise.” Her voice is a soft, high lilt. Almost unrecognizable to herself.</p>
<p>She opens her mouth, tongue out, and she watches a muscle twitch in his neck. “Open your throat, Dasha. I’m going to fuck you until you break.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doesn’t cum in her throat. Pulls himself out achingly hard, pulled taut to snap and with that strength he hides so carefully under those well-tailored suits, lifts her, carrying her back to the table. Solas spreads her open, looks down between her legs with such raw, unadulterated lust that she shivers. He’s still dressed. Mostly. Shirt disheveled, slacks around his hips. He looks beautiful. Painfully handsome. “Please,” she says, though she isn’t really even sure what she’s asking for, even though her jaw aches and her throat is raw and her heartbeat has climbed down between her legs.</p>
<p>He looks up at her, a brief glint of amusement in his eyes. “Please?” He runs the backs of his fingers down her pussy. “How polite.” He presses one inside, then another, slowing fingering her. The sensation starts to build again, more ragged than before, a new layer of desperate. “I could fuck you.But do you deserve my cock, Dasha?”</p>
<p>She balks, blinks up at him. “I…I‘m not sure.”  </p>
<p>His eyes soften again, free hand smoothing up her bare thigh. “Now, now Dasha. You’ve been good haven’t you?’</p>
<p>“I…”</p>
<p>He twists his hand, running his thumb just gently across her clit. “You’ve done everything I’ve asked, haven’t you? Been a good little slut for me?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” She rocks toward his hand. “Yes, Sir.”</p>
<p>“There.” He smooths his hand up her body, runs his thumb along her lips. “Now how badly do you want my cock?”</p>
<p>She groans. She’s so wet it’s obscene. Wet all down her thighs, all along the table. “I need it. I need it, Sir. <em>Please”</em></p>
<p>Solas curls his fingers under the ropes around her thighs. And for once, without a word, he fucks her. Hard. Punishingly. Yanking her down onto him, burying himself to the hilt. The force it’s taking to keep herself from cumming feels like it’s going to shatter her, break her into pieces . “Don’t cum,” he says even as he starts to grunt with each thrust. “Don’t cum,” he says even as his hips stutter. “Don’t cum,” he says as he curls his body over her, shuddering, and spills himself inside of her. She can feel him. All over.  Dasha radiates sensation, like the force of keeping herself from cumming has sent it through every cell. She can feel the tension in her eye lashes, in every single strand of hair. He holds her like a lover now, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “You’re such a good girl,” he says, breathless, “my good girl.” He kisses her, almost softly.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s retied her. Looser now so she can sit upright, back against the wall, propped up on the table. Her wrists tied at her front, shins to thighs again, legs spread. Solas examines the hitachi closely, turning it around in his hand. For her benefit, she knows, these slow transitions.</p>
<p>So wet she feels animal. Feral. “You can cum now.” She whimpers, shuddering.  “As much and as hard as you want. I’m feeling generous.”</p>
<p> Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much.” She’s babbling again, shaking all over with desperation, lust.  “<em>Thank you</em>.”</p>
<p>One side of his mouth quirks up. ”My pleasure.” He holds the head so close to her clit she can feel the air warp around the vibrations then pulls it back. She shivers, every muscle in her body straining under the sheer force it’s taking her to hold herself still. “I’d like to try something.” He angles the vibrator just a little beside her clit, slipping two fingers inside of her. She shudders, bearing down. He spreads his fingers wider. “Do you remember your safe word, Dasha?”</p>
<p>She frowns, confused. “Yes, Sir.”  </p>
<p>“Say it.” He adds a third finger, pumping and stretching.</p>
<p>“Detonography.”</p>
<p>“Good girl.” He slathers lube along the head of the hitachi, presses it gently to her entrance, the vibrations spreading along her hips, her thighs. “I want to fuck you with this.”</p>
<p>“Yes.” She says, letting her head loll back. “Yes, please.”</p>
<p>“Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” He presses the hitachi’s head harder against her entrance. “Look at me, Dasha.” She lifts her head, their eyes meeting. His eyes are soft now, gentle. “I’m gonna fuck you with this.”</p>
<p>And it terrifies her, and it thrills her. “Yes, yes Sir please.” He presses the head in further and she feels herself stretch. She mouths a breathy <em>oh. </em>He presses further, his free hand coming up to play with her clit. It doesn’t hurt but the pressure is intense. She wants it inside her, wants Solas to fuck her within an inch of her life. He pushes in further and she bucks against the table. “Oh gods, <em>gods, </em>it’s so big.”</p>
<p>“Breathe, Dasha, breathe, you can take it.” He cups her face, “look at me.” She does, their eyes locked. He nods at her, stroking her face. “That’s it. Relax. Good girl.” She feels it slip in, stretching her, the vibration knocking up against her g-spot so intensely that she starts to shake. Solas reaches up to undo the rope around her wrists and she grabs at him, holds onto him for dear life, nails digging into the skin of his arm. He thumbs her clit, thrusting the hitachi just shallowly inside her. “What a good girl. What a very good girl.”</p>
<p>Dasha unclenches her muscles, lets herself go limp to the force of the sensation. It’s so intense. Like nothing she’s ever felt before in her life and she can feel her orgasm ramping up. The force of it feels almost terrifying and when it finally descends down onto her she cries out, bearing down. She squirts on the table, on her thighs, on him. And he holds her. Tightly. Pulls her close to the warmth of his body, his lips brushing across the shell of her ear as it comes cresting over her. “That’s it, that’s it..”</p>
<p>She fists her hands in the fabric of his shirt, still trembling, the aftershocks of her orgasm coursing through her. “Gods, Solas, gods.”</p>
<p>“That was beautiful.”</p>
<p>“I’m…I’m…” Her thoughts spark into nothing. She could be underwater, could be at the center of the earth. She has no equilibrium. Only him. She holds on for dear life.</p>
<p>“I know.” He sets her back down onto the table, warms her skin with his hands. She can feel herself coming down, coming back to herself. Back to him, And his eyes are soft now, touch so gentle. They’ll call a cab after this, she knows. Get something to eat, she knows. He’ll soothe her like he’s soothing her now. Hands warm and soft along her skin. She’s trembling, she’s warm. She’s buzzing all over. “I have you, Dasha, I have you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading &lt;3</p>
<p>Come and say <a href="https://junkbabelna.tumblr.com/">hi</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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